


Meet Me at the Edge of a Memory

by Mochirimi



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, DressedinPinkShipping, F/M, Kind of an AU Idea, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Where my thoughts have been for the past... while, bederia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22187899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mochirimi/pseuds/Mochirimi
Summary: On her eighth birthday, Gloria makes a wish, meets a boy, and irrevocably changes the course of their lives. And she doesn't remember any of it.
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Yuuri | Gloria
Comments: 29
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, welcome to the beginning of my current (mini) obsession. This grew out of control from the initial thought, and this part is short, but the next part should hopefully be up by the end of Sunday, but no promises. Still, I have feelings towards where this is going, so hopefully, you'll stick around. Aha...
> 
> Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read.  
> Feel free to ramble at me on tumblr (mochirimi.tumblr.com) and I hope you enjoy!

On Gloria’s eighth birthday, her world vibrates in hues of red, orange, yellow, green, blue-- in all the colors of the rainbow reflected against the snow. She had never seen fireworks so bright or so colorful, so she stares up in wonder, marveling at each new shape and pokemon that lights up the night sky and colors each snowbank. The smiling faces of a pikachu and eevee splash across the dark scape and a smile spreads across her own cherub cheeks as she tugs on her mother’s coat sleeve to get her attention.

The sight is better than any cake or candle, and on the pokemon’s smiling faces she makes a small wish.

“Ma, look at the pokemon!” Her gloved finger pokes at the disappearing image on the black canvas. The smile on Gloria’s face forms a small “o” in response. “Ma, Ma where’d it go?”

Her mother laughs in response, squeezing the small hand in her own. The action quickly calms the child’s concerns. Crouching down to Gloria’s level, her mother points to the even larger attraction up ahead, the source of the welcoming fireworks. “That’s where we’re going, Sweet One.”

Up the beaten road, the crowd moves around them towards the beacon on the hill, the large red and white striped tents ballooned towards the sky, and the whimsical arch that pronounces its name, “Circus Royale, the Largest Traveling Circus of Galar.” On its last night on the outskirts of Wyndon, the attraction called to the people of the smokey city and they came in droves.

Walking with the crowd, mother and daughter pass through the arch and immediately met with displays that outshine the fireworks just minutes before. In the courtyard of the circus, pokemon and entertainers work together to create marvelous exhibitions of beauty, strength, amazement.

Through the sea of legs, Gloria strains to watch a pair pikachu dance on the backs of cufants, juggling half a dozen colorful spheres between the two. And beyond them, the Mime Jr. clowns match and mimic their trainers, and the Mr. Mimes and Mr Rimes dance with the darumakas. Around her, adults ooh and aah in delight, clapping as each small performance ends and transforms into a collective parade towards the main tent. The sound of copperajah trumpeting creates a hum in the air, hinting at the exploits to come.

The crowd sways forward, ready to follow the pokemon towards the guaranteed charms and exploits ahead. But as Gloria begins to move with them, a pair of unblinking lavender eyes catch her attention, followed by another pair, and one more, all staring at her among the sea of legs. 

“Ma, look!”

The three espurr seem almost to call out to her before in a blink of an eye, they’re gone. Straining to locate the trio among the moving people, Gloria pulls away from her mother’s sure grip of her gloved hand, her small fingers sliding free from the too large, too thick, mitten into the snowy cold. 

And in seconds, her mother is gone, not yet realizing that Gloria is free, lost to the growing excitement of the circus.

Swiveling her head back and forth, Gloria looks for the familiar figure and finds none. “Ma?” The call is a burst of a white cloud into the night air. And she calls out again.

The murmur of surrounding conversations is her only response. And then they call to her. Standing a yard away, the espurr call her, tilting their heads, their eyes continue unwavering and curious. 

Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, Gloria pushes her way through the surrounding people towards the pokemon. Maybe they knew the way. Maybe they could help her find her mother, wherever she was. 

As she moves closer to the pokemon, they only seem to get further away. The espurr swivel and maneuver through the throngs faster than she can keep up. The crowd around her grows thick, then thin until she’s pushed. She stumbles over the pavement. And she falls. 

The leggings of her tights darken at the knees from dirt, grime, and blood and she winces. “Ow…” Gloria murmurs to herself, brushing the gravel off her legs, coat, and hands. This is far from the birthday she imagined. She imagined fun, pokemon, and a night to remember. And now she’s alone, lost, ready to cry, ready to let out the sob building in the depth of her chest. 

“Just stay down already!” The command comes from a hidden corner where the circus perimeter met the bordering stone wall towards town, and Gloria can just make out the shape of one boy, another, and one more staring down at the glimpse of gray and curl of a familiar pokemon. 

Rage quickly replaces every feeling overwhelming Gloria just moments before. As one emotion dissipates, another flows and overwhelms her like a wave. How dare those boys bully a pokemon! She wouldn’t stand for it. Justice fuels her small feet forward as she breaks into a sprint towards the scene.

Time moves in slow motion. Before any of the boys are aware of her presence, she’s launched and attached to the tallest of the trio’s back, biting at the shoulder, the hand, and everything she can reach. 

She hears him yelp, hears one of the other boys say a string of bad words her ma would only say when she stubs her toe, and hears the last one holler, stating the obvious, “It’s just a girl!”

With as much energy as she’s able to muster, Gloria continues her assault in the midst of the chaos and confusion. Ma would tell her it’s bad to fight, and proper little ladies didn’t bite, but her ma would be proud she was trying so hard to protect a pokemon!  
The newly minted eight year old only relents when the boys begin to retreat. Jumping back from her assault, Gloria shakes her tiny fist at their retreating figures. “That’ll teach ya!”

“ I didn’t need your help.” The voice comes from behind her, and she turns, surprised she may have missed something. And the sight makes her blink.

It was a boy. She was mistaken; the boys weren’t picking on a pokemon but a boy, a beautiful boy.


	2. Chapter 2

No one told her to butt in. Bede was doing just fine; knocked down for _maybe_ a minute, he already had a strategy for how to deal with Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest, when she came out of literally nowhere. Who was this tepig-nosed girl to go in and meddle where she _obviously_ didn’t belong!

Staring at him with a blank stupid look on her chubby face, Bede frowns and repeats himself again, “I didn’t need your help.”

Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly and he wonders if she’s just that slow. She probably was. Just his luck, first one problem followed by another. Dusting off his faded pink jacket of debris caused by the fall, Bede sighs and takes a closer look at the girl still struggling to speak. 

Wrapped in a thick charcoal coat with her tangled mass of brown hair barely bound under a dark green hat, she was a whimsicott of a mess, a sloppy human version of the fantastic illustrations from his storybooks. The ones he used to have that is. 

“I thought you were a pokemon!” The outburst comes suddenly from her small frame, the words seeming to shake her entire body with the excitement, blood flooding to already rosy cheeks. 

She really was stupid. The young boy runs a hand through his pale blonde locks in indignation. “How could you possibly confuse _me_ with a pokemon. Do I _look_ like a pokemon? You must be stupid, I mean come--”

It appeared she didn’t take to insults well, interrupting him with a sour look, her body tightening with her sudden change of mood. “I’m not stupid! And stupid is a mean word! My ma says you shouldn’t call people stupid! And I am not stupid! It’s not my fault you look like one of the gray curly ones. I was just following the pokemon and I got lost and I thought those boys were picking on the pokemon and that’s mean too and now I can’t find my ma...”

Somewhere between the anger over insults and justification of her actions, Bede watches the small girl’s annoyance overwhelm her body, fat tears quickly rolling down her face. 

Now what was he supposed to do? At the sight of tears, Bede’s clear expression of annoyance becomes a softer grimace. “Please… don’t cry.” 

“I’m not crying!” That was clearly a lie. 

The quiet shaking of her body makes him shift from one scuffed foot to the other as the young boy tries to find something, _anything_ he could do to avoid the obvious solution to calm her bawling. He couldn’t just leave her there. The idea drops like a stone in his stomach. No, he couldn’t just leave her there by herself.

With a large inhale, Bede crosses his arms, looks towards the din of the circus fanfare and grumbles the words he knows has to say, “I’ll… I’ll help you.”

Through the sniffles he hears a quiet, “What did you say?”

“I said I’ll help you already, you tepig girl!” Light pink colors his cheeks and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his finger tracing the familiar hole hidden in the seam. 

More sniffles follow a string of wavering words, “Okay… thank you.”

______________________________________________

Snow crunches in syncopated rhythms, the sound in tandem with the music of the circus. People gather at the bazaar’s spotlight spectacles, paying no mind to the children and the pokemon wandering through. 

“Where was the last time you saw your mom?” 

“ Um…” The uncertain sound trails along without resolution. 

Wait a minute. In a split second, Bede stops in his tracks and turns around to face the girl trudging behind him. She was closer than he thought and the abrupt action causes her to collide right into him. 

“Ow!” The runt winces and rubs her nose. “Why did ya stop all of a sudden.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re that lost? You have no idea where your mom is?” 

Bede watches her face scrunch up, the eyebrows furrow. “Ma and I were watching the pokemon parade towards the tents.”

“Which one.” The tents of the circus loom over them advertising acrobats, aerial acts, and magicians. The large tents almost looked exactly the same. 

“I’m not sure.” For a second, he could almost swear she looked apologetic. The small girl holds her ungloved hand to her mouth, breathing in the warm air. A pale cloud of smoke escapes her fingers into the open night. 

“You’re hopeless.” He says flatly.

“Hey!” Her mouth twists. “I am _not_ hopeless.”

Bede crosses his arms and looks down at her with a small smirk, “Well I’m not the baby who lost her mom at the circus.”

The girl stands on her tiptoes, now at eye level with him. In the close proximity, he can see the flame and the fire in her eyes as she speaks, “I am not a baby! I’m eight today, and I know I’m lost but so are you. I don’t see your ma or dad anywhere.”

The chill came sudden and his heart lurches. The small smirk on his face is a quick frown. She was right. His parents were nowhere in sight. He swallows the sudden lump in his throat and manages, “They’re not here. I came alone.”

He wouldn’t allow himself to draw their faces in his mind, the sure and comforting grip of his father’s sure and steady gaze, his mother’s warm and comforting smile. Instead he draws up the cold gray walls of the orphanage, the overcrowded rooms of kids who just didn’t understand him. And the reason he ran away in the first place.

“I’m running away with the circus.” He continues, looking at her with resolve, daring her to challenge his idea. The idea was carefully planned and hatched over days while he watched the tents of the circus rise from the orphanage window. He didn’t fit in there, but at the circus he could find his place. He was almost sure of it.

The girl in front of him blinks, settling back down on the ground. She inspects him from head to toe, as if she was seeing him for the first time. A question seems to sit at the tip of her tongue.

“What? What are you looking at.” He detests how his voice edges with curling defense. 

She considers longer. He grows impatient. And then she speaks. “I can see it. You belong here.” Her eyes are warm and bright.

He could feel his face grow warm. Avoiding her gaze, Bede turns, bringing his hands to his face for coverage and warmth. Through his fingers he mutters, “Yeah, I know Tepig. Let’s go find your mom, already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO. First off, this story definitely became an entity all it's own...  
> I'm a little late with the chapter, and it's a whee bit short; sorry about that! The next one is already longer ^ - ^;;  
> However, moving forward, I will be (theoretically) updating with a new chapter every week until completion.
> 
> Also Happy Birthday to Pkmntrashcan!


	3. Chapter 3

It is easier to go through than around. Gloria weaves through the current of the crowd, her eyes locked on the faded pink and silver-blonde. Everything and everyone is a panorama of blurring colors and faces, speeding past them in their quick navigation. 

The boy in front of her moves with sure footing on crunching snow and wilted grass, glancing at the faces that pass. One step behind him, she watches his profile turn left, right, his lavender eyes scrutinizing each towering adult they pass.

No one pays attention to the children at their feet, too caught up in their own merriment to deal for the details. Her rouge red cheeks and puffy eyes. The evident wear and gray of his clothes. 

“Where are we going?” She calls out to him. The transitioning cold of February nips at her nose, her cheeks, her one exposed hand, kissing each and leaving it more pink, more tender than before.

He tenses in front of her, almost seeming to bristle at her question. He doesn’t turn in her direction when he answers, “Well because _someone_ can’t even remember where they last saw their mom, we’re heading to the entrance of the circus. Someone there will probably be able to help you.” 

She considers this answer a moment and nods. “Okay.” 

Admittedly, she had wandered far pursuit of pokemon, the chase pulling her further and further into the circus’ depths. From where she stood, every tent and attraction could lead the way to anywhere else. At least he seemed to know where they were going.

Her eyes trained on his back, she copies his paces, the syncopation of his longer steps compensated by the extended effort of her own. So when he stops again, and she almost bumps into him again, Gloria is confused. “Why’d we stop, now?”

She received only silence. The back of his head tells her nothing. Stepping closer for better inspection of his face, she finds his face twisted in a clouded expression, his hands kneading the stretched material of his sleeves.

Gloria tries again, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. “Hey! I said, why’d we stop.”

He flinches at her touch, takes a step back to distance himself from her. The confused look on his face turns annoyed in a second. “I’m just making sure we’re going in the right direction!”

“Oh.” Gloria considers his answer for a moment. She tilts her head, her finger on her chin. “Well, are we?”

More silence. They were lost, weren’t they. 

Met with no answer, Gloria examines her surroundings closely for the first time since the boy promised to help her. Unfamiliar people milled about this and that, the performing pokemon all around only caught as a glimpse through the forest of the crowd. They were lost. And nothing was even remotely familiar.

Except for a pair of unblinking lavender eyes. 

At the sight of the pokemon, Gloria’s own honey-brown eyes widen in excitement and hope. Quickly she points her finger towards the small gray figure looking back at her. “Look! It’s the pokemon from before!”

Somewhere her, she hears him grumble but her eyes remain locked on the pokemon twirling only a few feet away. 

She hears him grumble but her eyes remain locked on the pokemon twirling only a few feet away. In its turn, the espurr smiles and gestures, it’s attention her. Telling her once again to follow. And it runs. 

“We have to follow it.” She is suddenly sure it knows the way. 

Behind her, the boy grumbles something, but the urge is absolute. Quickly taking his cold fingers in her own, she pulls him with her towards the espurr. 

He hisses, startled by the abrupt action, “What are you doing?” 

“It knows the way, I’m sure of it.”

The inertia of the pull propels them forward. And they’re running. The crowds they once maneuvered through, fought and pushed to get through, seemed to disperse and open for them at the last moment to allow easy passage. 

Was it because of the pokemon?  
On its small feet, the gray pokemon moves with deft, graceful movements. Gloria could’ve sworn it was even floating above the ground. But it never moved too fast they couldn’t keep up. 

Just like before.

When it finally slows, stops for them to finally catch up, they aren’t at the entrance of the circus, but a tent. Significantly smaller than any neighboring tent that hosted the more popular attractions, the tent didn’t draw attention to itself; you wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t looking for it. 

The espurr blinks, holding one end of the tent flap open and looking up at the two breathless children. When Gloria catches her breath, the next action seems simple. “Let’s go in.”

“Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous!” The boy she dragged along glares at her, his face still flushed from the run. 

“But it led us here.” She squeezes the hand in her own. “It did that for a reason, so we gotta go in.”

“I said I’d help you find your mom, not follow some pokemon.” He says flatly.

Pursing her lips, Gloria looks up at him, her eyes pleading. “This is a part of that, I swear. I’m sure it’s trying to help us find my ma too. We just have to go in the tent. Maybe she’s in there.”

He frowns. Unconvinced. The pokemon pulls at the hem of her coat, insistent. It pulls at her, she pulls at him, and the three tumble into the darkness of the small tent.

Inside is darkness. Inside are stars. The night sky greets them through black silk and blue tulle draping. Constellations of stars wink and flirt nestled in velvet comfort. Inside the tent, it is quiet, still, but for the sound of small pokemon cooing softly to their trainer.

“Come in, come in. I’ve been expecting you.” A lithe voice calls to them, the figure barely perceptible in the darkness. Unblinking green and gold eyes stare unblinking, solemn and unimpressed beside the shadowed figure.

The pokemon they followed, floats forward towards the figure, a silver outline flitting gracefully to be by her side. As it lands, the moon on a velvet pedestal lights up, illuminating the space in a golden glow. Beside the woman, the two meowstic stand on invisible platforms, their paws on her shoulders.

The two other espurr from before come out from behind the table as the mysterious woman leans forward to look at the two children in front of her. “Shall I tell your fortune?” She continues with a small smile, mirth in her eyes.

Curiosity catches in Gloria’s. She takes a step forward. 

The boy beside her squeezes her hand. He takes a step back. 

When she turns to look at him, to ask the question of what he’s doing, the question stays paused on her tongue when she notices the edges of his expression, the apprehension. 

The beads of the fortune teller’s sleeves chime like small bells as she waves her hand over the translucent moon on her table. “There’s no need to be afraid, child.”

“I’m not afraid.” He responds quickly. Sharp. Defensive.

Her smile grows wider. “Then let me read your fortunes. Both of you.” She gestures them forward. “And after we’re through, my pokemon will take you to your mother, Girl. She’s been worried, but one more minute won’t hurt. My pokemon are convinced you need a reading. They have a message for you it seems.”

As Gloria takes another step forward, she squeezes the boy’s hand in hers. Under his breath, she hears him mutter, “This is ridiculous.” So subtly shaking his head as he follows her. 

Stepping up to the table, the two place their unlinked hands on the dark velvet tablecloth. Their clairvoyant leans closer forward placing her hands on each of their own. “What they tell me, I will tell you.” 

Gloria’s hand trembles under the teller’s knowing gaze. Her violet eyes close slowly, and in turn, Gloria closes her own. The field behind her closed eyes changes color with each passing phrase like the fireworks that greeted her at the beginning.

“The path to the freedom you seek is long. You will not succeed with direct action.”

_Crimson red._

“Victory and glory are yours if you take the risk.”

_Gold._

“Tender are feelings if you but hold on and remember..”

_A bright burst of pink._

The colors swirl and change behind her eyelids, a pleasure of feelings before fading, each one after the other back to the blackness of ordinary and quiet. When Gloria opens her eyes, she is greeted with a smile from the fortune teller, her hands retreating back to her side. “That’s it. That’s all they wanted to tell you. You are free to leave; the circus won’t stop you anymore.”

She bows her head to the two children and in turn, Gloria does the same. As she bows, Gloria glances at the boy beside her. He remains quiet through the exchange, eyes averted to the ground. 

“My pokemon will escort you to your mother, Child.” The psychic gestures to the three espurr at their feet, pulling at the hem of their coats, guiding them towards the entrance of the tent pavilion.

Before turning towards the bright light outside, Gloria turns to the woman, the pokemon at her side, “Thank you, Ma’am.”

At the words, the boy beside her stiffens, growling, “Don’t thank her stupid.” He charges forward with the pokemon and pulls her with him into the light. 

______________________________________________

With the children now gone, the psychic sighs and leans back in her chair. The pokemon beside her finally relaxed with the tasks done, their message conveyed. The tense air, steady throughout the night having dissipated with the children’s departure from her tent.

Carefully, she thrums her fingers against her smile, equally pleased with the night’s events. “So they’re it, then… the future.”

The meowstic yawn, anticipating what may come next.

______________________________________________

Outside the tent the espurr flit forward in front of the children, walking a path that seemed so obvious to their unblinking eyes. 

Beside her, the boy is tense as they walk. He mutters under his breath, “What a waste of time… What did any of that even _mean_ anyways… What a bunch of rubbish…”

Gloria watches him thoughtfully, his eyes focused on the ground, his mouth twisted in scorn around his words. “But don’t you think it was cool? She was talking about our future, right?”

His lavender eyes flit to glare at her. “Don’t be stupid, Tepig. She was scamming us. I don’t know what she wanted but I _doubt_ she was telling the future.” He rolls his eyes. 

Gloria lets his words roll through her mind like marbles for a moment. The woman _seemed_ like she was telling the truth. And besides, why would she lie? She shrugs her shoulders, “Well I think she was telling the truth. And besides, there’s the entrance!” 

With her free hand, Gloria points to the back of the lit up sign just a few meters away. Underneath it, she could see her ma crying frantically clutching her pink mitten while the policeman did his best to console her. 

They finally made it! Happiness and relief swell up inside Gloria’s small frame, urging her forward. She’s ready to run. Until the boy at her side pulls her back, the hand holding her own squeezing it far tighter than before. The espurr watch them closely. 

She furrows her brow, “What’s wrong.”

His expression is unreadable as he stares at the sign, where her mom stands crying and waiting for her. “Wait.” He averts his gaze down to his feet a moment as he speaks. His voice barely above a whisper, “Just… wait.” 

“But why. My ma’s waiting for me.” She tugs at his hand, urging him towards their destination. 

Together they stumble two steps forward before he lets go, severing their connection. For a moment, he’s quiet, willing to look anywhere but at her. 

“Hey…” She begins. The cold grips again at her suddenly exposed fingers. 

He finally looks at her, his lavender eyes devoid of any emotion. “I can’t go on with you.” He states simply. “They’ll take me back if I go with you. I’m not going back.”

Gloria blinks, remembering why he was even there in the first place. He wanted to run away with the circus. She was the one who was lost. Slowly she nods, the hand reaching out to him, pulled back to her side. “Right.”

“I assume you can get back on your own.” He rolls his eyes. “Not even you could get lost now.”

The small girls smiles softly, “Then I guess… this is goodbye. You’re gonna go with them tonight?” She nods her head at the espurr flitting around his legs. 

“Yeah, I think so.” The boy runs through his hand through his hair, surveying the rest of the circus. “This is a million times better than where I was.” A plan builds in his mind, how he’d hide away with the equipment while the circus traveled, revealing himself at the next location. They would have no choice but to accept him as a part of them after that; they wouldn’t be able to return him. 

A point of impact draws him from his thought process as the young girl collides into him for a hug. Against his shoulder, she mumbles, “Thank you.”

Hesitantly, he places one arm, and then another around the girl to return the embrace before pulling her off with a small smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Get going already. Your mom looks worried sick over there.”

She grins back, her hands clasped behind her back. “One day, I can’t wait to watch you perform. I’ll see you again one day, promise.” With a quick turn, she begins to sprint towards the entrance, two of the espurr running close behind. 

As she falls into her mom’s arms, she realizes she never did get his name.

______________________________________________

From his place at a distance, Bede watches the tepig girl run into the arms of her mother, the two embracing while they cried. Beside them, the policeman sighs in relief, returning his notepad to his vest. There would be nothing to report tonight.

If only things could always be so simple. 

Sticking his hands into his pockets, Bede turns away from the scene, walking again through the circus in search of a hiding spot with the espurr by his side. Tonight would be it; he’d finally get out of here, finally be free.

If only things could be that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you for joining me on this journey thus far through my Bederia feels ; ^ ;


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aklfjdsljfds Obviously, this took forever to update,  
> AND I AM SO SORRY FOR THAT.  
> After Bederia Week, I'll try to be more prompt about updating.  
> I greatly appreciate and thank you for all your patience!

Everything is different now. 

When he started, the adrenaline that spurred him forward, pushed him out of the orphanage window towards a picture of open air, whirling nights, and a place that just _wasn’t_ draped in tones of gray, was painted clearly in his mind. Every line of the vision was defined, clear. 

And now, the young boy just wasn’t so sure.

Walking with the tepig girl, things were loud. _So_ loud, in color, and noise. Her presence was _everywhere_ , and now it’s quiet. The world is muted, sounded to the background of looming figures and passing shadows of circus lamplights. 

At his side, the espurr tugs at his hand, calling Bede’s attention to its presence. Its unblinking lavender eyes are full of curiosity as it tilts its head to one side. 

He smiles just a little bit. “I’m fine, really.” 

The pokemon rubs its head against his side before it pulls him forward. Bede stumbles at the sudden rapid pace the espurr leads him forward. But he leans into it, leans into the pokemon’s judgment of where he’d fit best because as long as it's _away_ it’s better than any place he’d already been.

The destination is dark before it’s light. Through a small tear in the canvas tent line, the pokemon pulls him into the darkness waiting. In the darkness, he can make out the sloping tiered seats, the hundreds of heads of a waiting crowd, and the hush whispers of a growing excitement waiting for something on the center stage.

A gold spotlight hits the center stage in a brilliant glow and the lone figure crouched there above a pool of crystal clear water. From an unknown corner, music softly fills the air in a slow unraveling and the figure comes alive.

Beside him, the espurr tugs him towards a waiting indeedee. The pokemon bows to the pair before leading them to an empty seat. He sits

But Bede doesn’t notice any of it, his eyes glued to the performance in the middle of the ring. Small lights fall in minute spiral descents to the ground, and the lone figure dances across the water’s edge. The moves are lithe, graceful and succinct. The performer moves, creates ripples across the water and arches towards the sky and the lunatone and solrock in the light dappled sky above.

The real performance begins. Descending slowly towards the lone figure is another, the _true_ star comes. Perched on the edge of a rounded hoop, she sits, her arm poised towards the ground. Around her a lunatone and solrock orbit, waltzing to the swell of a distant cello and flute. 

When she reaches her partner performer, the two begin a dance, her feet flitting across the waterscape as her partner gives chase around the ring. She twirls and dances with the silver ring, just out of reach of her partner’s grasp. Her coy smile, the way she calls and beckons to the other performer is a special form of magic.

Even without the wings, she tells the story of a fairy flirting with a human, drawn to him as he is to her. The silver ring she performs with is a mirror she toys with, and with a tug, just as her partner is about to reach her, touch her, she’s in the air, flying. Bending and twisting through the loop she is the shooting star across the tent nightscape. 

The performance ends with a flash of light, the twisting and turning of the ring and person so fast the performer is a blend of lilac and silver hues until suddenly she’s gone, and the partner and audience she leaves behind is awestruck.

When the gold spotlight closes, they are left in darkness once more, the world muted into silence, defined into what the world was before the performance and what it became after. And Bede knows. 

While the spectators around him rise to leave, Bede stays for the next performance, and the one after that. The crowd ebbs and flows around him until a voice announces the closing of the bigtop. 

It is the end of the night.

When he steps out of the tent, the night’s festivities have completely ended, with only sparse groups of people walking through towards the exit. 

Turning his head from side to side, Bede surveys the area, looking for a place to stow away as the circus packs for its next destination. At his side, the little espurr yawns, rubbing its eyes before walking away.

“Am I supposed to follow you?” He calls after it. The pokemon had been a guide all night, leading him, walking by his side, taking him where he needed to be. But never once had it just completely let him go. 

Almost as if reading his mind, the pokemon calls out to him once, turning to walk through the light layer of snow. 

When it stops, they’re at the edge of the cufant and copperajah fence. Ducking through the metal bars, Bede follows the espurr to the other side of the temporary enclosure. The larger pokemon eye them warily, but pull at the cornsilk-colored straw hill cradled in a large bin in the corner for their cufants’ meal, while the young cufants stomp closer to their newest arrivals. One pulls at Bede’s worn coat and he stumbles.

“Hey, watch it.” He snaps.

The mother pulls back her child away from their guests, and the pokemon is soon onto the next adventure under their mother’s watchful eye.

Bede shakes his head, turns away for the small families to climb into the straw bin after the espurr. The stalks bend and snap under his weight as he settles in beside the pokemon, pulling the gold material over him for cover and warmth. The hiding place isn’t ideal but it’s warm and out of the way; no one would find him until it was too late, when they could no longer return him to the orphanage. 

A copperajah emphasizes his point as it leans against his bin, providing even more much needed warmth to the young boy hiding. Bede silently thanks the pokemon and curls his legs into his chest, allowing his jacket to offer greater coverage from the elements. A small struggling yawn escapes his lips.

Beside him, the espurr snores and turns to curl deeper into the straw. The sight of the sleeping pokemon begins to lose definition, blurring at the edges, the lines between colors seeping into each other and fading into total darkness.

___________________________________

The scanners of the registers ring and beep in the distance and Beder rubs at his eyes, kicking the edge of the display podium his mother set him. In front him, she paces in an erratic rhythm, quickly turning on her heels at the slightest sharp sound, the bumping of a cart, the cackle of a matronly customer.

“Mom, when are we going home?” The young boy yawns, his sleepy eyes watching the magikarp on their tanks bump lightly against the supermarket glass. 

The woman trembles slightly, her fingers dancing across her lips, as she calculates, her eyes darting back and forth across the floor as she thinks. Her silver-blonde hair, so much like her son’s is pulled back in a severe bun, the locks falling her head darts. 

“Mom, when are we going home!” The young boy whines, kicking the display under behind his feet harder as he demands an answer. 

She flinches at the impact, sharply turning and kneeling in front of her son. Her shaky hands flutter across his coat, pulling the garment tighter to his body, adjusting his scarf around his neck. “Hush, Little One.” She runs her fingers through his curled hair, rubs his cherub cheek. “Why don’t you read your book?” His mother emphasizes the point by opening the tome carefully in his lap. 

“I’ve read it five times already.” Bede whines, but his eyes are drawn to the gilded illustrations and he quiets, his attention absorbed in “Pokemon from Around the World.” 

His mother sighs, patting his head softly. The way her heaves, the way her eyes water and glisten, goes unnoticed by the boy as she kisses the top of his head. “Just read your book until I get back, okay?” 

“Where are you going?” The boy murmurs, his eyes glued to the images on the page. 

“Just away.” She says into his hair. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She places a curl behind his ear. “Will you be good for Mommy while she’s gone?” Her fingers don’t tremble, as she smiles down softly at her son. 

He mumbles an affirmative, kicking his feet as he traces the bold lines of a tepig, an oshawatt, and a snivy. The shadow and touch of his mother retreat, his book illuminated by the bright lights of the supermarket. 

Minutes echo into hours as Bede bores with his book. His lavender eyes begin searching for the familiar face of his mom, her kind eyes, her soft smile, finding none in the questioning eyes of passing patrons. They reach around him for on sale canned goods, shaking their heads in disapproval at the lone child sitting on the pedestal. 

When the light dies outside and the speakers announce a last call for all shoppers, Bede steps down from the platform, calling out for his mother, the sound of his voice echoing off the near empty store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, ya'll enjoyed reading.  
> See ya next time~
> 
> Find me at the following to scream your Bederia feelings:  
> [tumblr](mochirimi.tumblr.com)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mochirimi)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, welcome to the beginning of my current (mini) obsession. This grew out of control from the initial thought, and this part is short, but the next part should hopefully be up by the end of Sunday, but no promises. Still, I have feelings towards where this is going, so hopefully, you'll stick around. Aha...
> 
> Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read.  
> Feel free to ramble at me on tumblr (mochirimi.tumblr.com) and I hope you enjoy!


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